


The Myth of the Beast

by wordsinthewilderness



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 09:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsinthewilderness/pseuds/wordsinthewilderness
Summary: A fairy tale retelling with an ancient Greek twist... When Neia's sister is stolen by the prince of the underworld, she is determined to save her, but the world she discovers hides secrets far darker than she could ever imagine. The largest mystery of them all is the prince of the dead himself, more beast than man, and desparate to save his falling kingdom. - A retelling of Beauty and the Beast and the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone.





	1. I

  
It was the day of her sister’s wedding. After weeks of preparations, the house smelled like honey and cinnamon, every surface in the kitchen covered with baskets of dried dates and small rounds of cheese wrapped in cloth, caskets of rich wine and bags of walnuts. The air contained a fine cloud of powdered sugar Neia could taste rather than see.

  
She was up before sunrise, brimming with excitement, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. As was tradition, on the morning of the wedding the bride and her sisters would pick fresh flowers for the ceremony together. When the three of them left the house, the morning was still cool and blue, as if even the island’s colors were reluctant to wake. Filip, their old ram, made sleepy noises in his pen behind the house, grumpy as always in the morning. Neia hooked her arms through her sisters’, the skirts of their tunics dancing around their legs as they walked.

  
“Ready for today?” she asked Ella, squeezing her arm.

  
Ella was the oldest and the bride to be. She had always been the quiet one, and said little now as her sisters talked, though there was a light in her eyes Neia didn’t see often. Ella and their youngest sister, Zana, both took after their father: light skinned, though tanned from the sun, slender, with thick auburn hair and a dash of freckles. They could have been twins, if not for the age difference. Contrary to them, Neia looked more like their mother, an island woman through and through: olive skin, brown eyes and curves in all the right places.

  
“Who’s with me in slipping granny some wine and getting her to tell one of her stories again?” Zana asked. “She never got to finish the one about that pirate prince –“

  
“There are no such things as pirate princes,” Ella protested, but she laughed anyway. No one could help but dote on Zana, though if you only listened to their mother’s complaints, you’d think Zana was a lazy good-for-nothing who’d rather get dirty horse riding or treasure hunting than doing her chores. If anything, Zana would probably tell people herself she wanted to be a pirate princess when she grew up.

  
“I just can’t wait for the feast tonight,” Neia sighed, as they walked through the village. The main – and only – road was paved with pale, round stones, running down towards the harbor in one direction, and up the hill in the other, where they were headed. Small cottages lined the road, shutters still as closed as the flowers in the flower beds. Tonight, there would be lanterns everyone, music and dancing, and food, so much food, and all of it delicious. The wedding preparations had been a nice distraction from ordinary island life, but the feast would surpass it all. Before either of her sisters could answer, however, another voice called.

  
“Good morning, Neia.” Lukaios. He stood in the doorway of his small cottage at the end of the village. They halted, but only for a second, as when Neia recognized him, she pulled her sisters along again.

  
“No time to talk now, Lukaios,” she replied. “Come on.” But her sisters hesitated. Of course, they couldn’t bring themselves to be rude, even when Lukaios ignored their presence entirely.

  
“I thought I told you to call me Lukai,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “I hope I’ll see you tonight at the feast. Save a dance for me.” Neia felt her cheeks grow warm and she dragged Ella and Zana along without looking back.

  
The day Lukaios had appeared on Kirithra had been a distraction from ordinary island life, but in a very different way than the wedding. He was, modestly speaking, gorgeous. Tall and broad shouldered, his skin an almost golden hue, matching his golden hair. Neia had heard girls whisper about the dimples in his cheeks, his smile, and his remarkably blue eyes.

  
“Not even bothering to congratulate you,” she muttered under her breath to Ella. “I feel sorry for the girl he ends up with.”

  
“I think they’ll have to stand in line for him,” Zana said, and shot a glance back over her shoulder. “He’s still watching.” Neia quickened her pace. As soon as they left the village, the road became a path of hard packed dirt lined with the occasional marker stone. Birds were already celebrating the coming day in the olive groves, as the sky in the east turned pink, soft as a rose petal.

  
“You could at least try and talk with him,” Ella said.

  
“Have you been talking to mother? That we’d make ‘such a beautiful couple’ is no reason to get married,” Nella protested. “And father would never allow it.” She didn’t hide the thankful tone in her voice. It was not as if she disliked Lukaios, she just… didn’t like him. The reason people kept encouraging her to talk to him almost made it worse. Didn’t her sister hear how he not asked but simply demanded she saved him a dance?

  
“You should be glad they approved of you and Emil,” she continued. What her sister’s fiancé lacked in wealth or position, he made up in kindness and hard work. Simply seeing how happy he made Ella was worth much more than any gold.

  
“Just wait until he sees you with your veil and your hair all done and the flowers,” Neia said. Thankfully, her sisters took the hint and dropped the subject of Lukaios entirely.

  
When they crested the first hilltop and reached the Anthisei fields, the sun had just come up, shrouding the rolling hills in golden light. The sea of flowers that covered the fields was opening up one by one, slow but bright burst of color that ran until the hills started climbing again and become more rocky. From here, they had a good view on the village and the natural bay that formed the harbor towards the south, still sleeping in the island’s shadow.

  
The three of them took their time to fill Ella’s basket. Laughing and gossiping, they slowly crossed the fields in search of the best flowers, the brightest and loveliest colors. Zana was now wearing a crown of daisies and Neia had stuck some roses in her hair. Their older sister was looking at the flowers they had already collected, frowning.

  
“Don’t you think we should save the best ones for the offering?” she asked. Some of the flowers they would take with them now would be for the offering at the temple before the ceremony.

  
“Not all of them, surely,” Neia said. Zana nodded.

  
“The gods would understand that you want to look your best on your wedding day.”

  
A sudden cloud blocking the sunlight made them all look up. There had not been any clouds just a moment ago, but now more were coming in from the north, darkening the sky. Then, a low, rumbling sound. A slight tremor went through the field, as if all the flowers shivered in a gust of cold wind. The next moment the whole island shook. Ella, clutching her basket, made a startled noise. Neia was caught off balance and grabbed Zana to keep herself from falling. For a while, it was silent, as if all living things on Kirithra held their breath.

  
The neighing of horses cut through the silence, followed by the rattling of wheels. A chariot pulled by two black stallions appeared on the path leading to the north of the island. A warrior with a helmet covering his face held the reigns. They were riding at full speed, and coming straight towards them.

  
“Watch out!” Neia screamed and she pulled Zana back. The chariot was already upon them, the sound of galloping hooves like approaching thunder. But just as quick, the horses and the strange warrior had passed them.

  
Heartbeat pounding in her ears, Neia searched the field for her sister. Where was Ella? She had stood just there where the chariot had flown past, what if she had been hit? There, her basket with flowers lay discarded on the ruined field. But Ella had vanished.

  
Someone screamed, a sound that turned Neia’s blood to ice. The chariot had made a circle, drawing deep black tracks through the bright flower fields, returning to the northern path where it had come from. And on the chariot, held by the warrior, was the limp form of her sister, her hair loose and streaming in the wind. Neia did not yell or cry, or worse, faint. Without a second thought, she started running, after the chariot and the brute who had taken her sister.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hi there! Thanks for reading the first chapter of my story. This tale is based on the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone, and the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. In my story, the characters are not called 'Belle' or 'Persephone' though. Instead, I decided to give all characters an original name, because in the end, Neia is not just 'Belle' nor is she only 'Persephone', but both, and she is an original character as well. Besides, this way you can all guess who is who, which also makes it more fun, I think. Let me know in a comment what you think of the first chapter!  (Note: English is not my first language, so there will probably be some language mistakes, feel free to let me know if you spot any!)


	2. II

She had already crossed half the field when Zana caught up with her.  
  
“Neia, wait!” But she couldn’t wait. Every second wasted was a chance for that man to take their sister far away, never to be seen again. Neia grabbed Zana’s shoulders, facing her, fighting to control her voice.  
  
“Zana, you need to go home. Tell mother, tell Emil, anyone, they need to make sure no one leaves the island.” Her sister looked at her, wordless, her face pale.  
  
“But what about you –“  
  
“I’ll go after them. Now, Zana! Run as fast as you can.” And she did. Neia did not give herself time to watch her sister go, to wait any longer, to think the horrible thoughts that tugged at her mind. Who was to say that there was only one intruder on Kirithra? What if she had sent Zana right into a trap? She started running again, the sound of her steps drowning out her thoughts. Mud clung to her bare feet as she followed the trail of the chariot.   
  
Until she was utterly and completely lost.  
  
It couldn’t be. The northern parts of the island were not inhabited, but she had been here countless of times, playing with her sisters and the other island children when she was little, and later, when she needed the peace and quiet of the forest. It was quiet now too, but eerily so. She had lost the trail after it had gone down a steep slope and she had to find another way down the hill. Down below, it seemed as if the chariot with the horses, the warrior and her sister had simply vanished.  
  
Neia resisted the urge to yell her sister’s name. The forest was thick and dark as twilight here. Silent, apart from her own footsteps. She didn’t recognize the trees, the rocks, anything at all.  
  
Something hard bumped against her leg from behind. With a sharp gasp, she spun around.  
“Filip!” It was the old ram, looking at her with a steady gaze. Neia crouched down to scratch him under his chin. Now that she wasn’t alone anymore, tears stung in her eyes.  
  
“We need to find Ella,” she told the goat, her voice wobbly. What was she thinking? Going after the chariot on her own. If only Zana was able to warn everyone in time… Ella was supposed to get married today.   
  
Filip turned his head, scraping one of his strong, curled horns along her arm. He walked past her, with a certain urgency in his steps that caught her attention. He needed to look back only once before she understood she had to follow him.  
 

~***~

  
They stood before the mouth of a small cave, barely large enough to allow even one of the horses that had pulled the chariot through. Neia was certain there had not been any caverns on the island before, not inland like this one. Well, at that moment she wasn’t certain of anything anymore. Filip stood next to the opening, gazing at nothing in particular, as if he was in his regular pasture. But the message was loud and clear. She hesitated for just a moment. Going back to fetch others, to get weapons and torches and dogs, it was tempting, but how could she be sure she or Filip would find the cavern again? And if her eyes were not betraying her, the opening was slowly getting smaller.  
  
“Good boy,” she said to Filip, giving him a last scratch under his chin. Then, she hurried into the darkness.  
  
At first, she walked slowly, carefully finding her way through the narrow tunnel. One time, she glanced back, but seeing how small the opening of the cave looked from afar made it difficult to breathe. Her heart was racing. The air in the cavern was damp and cold. She wasn’t sure whether her own breathing and footsteps were the only sounds she heard.  
  
After an eternity that lasted no more than a few minutes, she noticed an unnatural light in the distance. A cold, greenish glow, though the source remained hidden. For a moment she allowed herself to feel a small wave of relief, as the light made it easier to see where she was going. Three steps later, her breath caught in her throat. She had stepped out of the tunnel and now stood on a slab of stone that extended over a deep abyss. Far down below, she heard the faint sounds of a river. The water gave of the strange glow, casting moving patterns on the walls of the ravine.  
  
Just as she searched for a way across, a boat appeared, approaching from the far side of the canyon the river had carved out. The vessel floated on nothing but the air itself, silent and swift as an owl in the night. Neia felt like the prey that was about to be swooped up and eaten whole. There was someone on the small boat. It wasn't Ella, though Neia dared not guess where she or the warrior and his chariot had disappeared to, or whether this cave or boat would lead her to them. But she would not go back, not now.  
  
The boatman was cloaked and hooded, and when the boat was level to the stone pier she stood on, he raised an old and wrinkled hand and extended it towards her, palm upwards. The ride was not for free.   
  
“I – I don’t have anything,” she said, her voice tight with despair. The man pointed towards her hair.  
  
“You mean – a rose?” She was still wearing them in her hair, the flowers dark and lovely, red as blood. Neia took one and placed it carefully on the man’s outstretched hand. He moved aside, so she could step aboard. She sat down on the plank that formed a makeshift bench, but didn’t dare touch anything, didn’t dare move as the boat glided across the open expanse, without a sound.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, as they reached the other side. The man remained as silent as his boat. A new path lead her through a short tunnel. The glow of the river did not reach the other side, though her eyes seemed to have adjusted to the darkness. The path was lined by dark, thorny shapes, like bare trees caught in stone. Her feet were numb from cold now and goosebumps crept down her back. She had the distinct feeling someone or something was looking at her. Her whole body froze when she heard a low, rumbling growl somewhere close. Was it one or more creatures she heard? But she didn’t stop to listen. She ran until she reached a wall with an immense iron gate. The darkness behind her concealed anything that might have followed. Panting, she pounded on the gate.  
  
“Please, let me in!” Above the gate, three heads cut from stone were mounted. Three men, heavy browed and bearded, their gazes black and silent, reminding her of the boatman. “Please, I’ll give anything, I just want my sister back!”  
  
Agonizingly slow, the gate creaked open. She slipped through the smallest gap she fit through. There was no one behind the gate, just an empty hallway, high and windowless. For a moment, Neia felt bone-tired. Where was she? And how much further did she need to go? A long time ago, she had already realized she was no longer anywhere near Kirithra, but she could not accept the thought. Instead, she balled her fists and gritted her teeth. The only way was forward.  
  
The hallway led to another door, which opened up to a large entry hall. There were doors to both sides, and a massive staircase leading up. Neia almost cried out from relief when she saw light coming through an open doorway on the second floor. She hurried up the stairs and practically ran inside. The room was so vast it almost took her breath away. It was almost entirely empty and lighted by countless of torches on the wall and candles on chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. On the far end of the room, there stood two thrones, one slightly smaller than the other. And on the steps leading up to them, sat a small, crouched figure.  
  
“Ella?” Neia was already running before she’d even called out.   
  
“Neia!” They both ran and fell into each other’s arms. Ella clung to her as a child would to her mother, tears streaming down her face. Her hands were cold as ice.   
  
“Are you really here? How can you be here? How did you find me?” Her tearful smile made way for alarm.   
  
“There was this cave, and a boat,” Neia tried to tell her, but she didn’t listen.  
  
“You can’t be here, Neia!” Ella started pushing her back towards the door. “You need to go back, now.” Only then, Neia noticed she was wearing a strange cloak, made of a heavy, embroidered fabric.   
  
“We’re both going, Ella, we’re going home.” She grabbed Ella’s hands, but her sister pulled back.  
“Didn’t you see him? Why did he let you in?”  
  
“Who, the man who took you? In the chariot?” But Ella shook her head, shivering from cold and terror despite the cloak.  
  
“No, he’s just a – a servant. I mean the master of this place, the prince.”  
  
“What are you talking about? What prince?”   
  
“I don’t care what he said, he is no prince.” She covered her face in her hands. “He is a monster. And he wants me to marry him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hi, wordsinthewilderness here, and welcome to the underworld! Or I mean, thanks for reading the second chapter. It's quite a while ago that I wrote this, and the chapters are still quite short. Some new characters will be introduced in the next chapter, so make sure to continue reading. And don't forget to leave a comment of course!


	3. III

“Who are you?” A snarling voice boomed like thunder through the room. Ella had become very still and very pale. Neia spun around, making sure her sister was behind her. A tall man strode towards them. No, he wasn’t just tall, he was huge. And he had horns. Thick, black horns protruding from the sides of his head, curling backwards and up, tapering into a sharp point. His eyes were yellow like a wolf’s, his gaze forbidding under dark, heavy brows. His hair was long and disheveled, falling beyond his shoulders. A black cloak concealed most of his body, and his feet were clad in leather boots. He towered over them, Neia’s head barely reaching his shoulders. Ella was right. This was no man, no prince, this was a monster. A beast. She expected him to bare his teeth at her any moment now. Maybe that would make the hazy feeling in her head go away. She couldn’t faint now. Maybe she needed to stop staring.

“Who are you?” he asked again. His voice seemed to fill the entire hall. “What are you doing here? This is my castle.” The roar shocked her awake.

“Well,” she said, and swallowed. “This is my sister and I am here to take her back. And you don’t have to yell at us, we were just leaving. So good day to you.” She reached behind her to grab Ella’s hand and pulled her along, but the man stepped in front of them again.

“The girl is to be my bride. You dare take her from me?”

“She is not your bride!” she yelled. If she did not raise her voice as well, his anger would crush her like an ant under his boot. “She is supposed to get married today, to a good man she has known all her life, not to you.”

“And will he be able to offer her any riches? Will he give her power, a crown, a kingdom?” The man gestured with his arm, as if to show them the empty hall, the empty thrones. Neia’s anger was real now, and growing.

“No. But he’ll give her a home and he will respect her, and that’s why she chose to marry him. He didn’t steal her, because he didn’t have to. She will not be his property, nor yours! And what kingdom are you talking about? Are you a prince, or a king?” She was almost out of breath then, her heart pounding in her chest. The man did not speak, staring at her as if she was the one who had horns.

“The girl stays here. I will have my bride,” he said in a low voice, which in some way was worse than his shouting.

“Fine.” Neia let go of Ella’s hand. “Then I’ll stay, as long as you let her go.”

“What? Neia, no, you can’t!” Ella grabbed her arm and shook her when she did not reply, but she merely looked at the man. His yellow eyes had widened. His face was of an unhealthy, almost grey pallor, as if he had not seen the sun in a very long time, while the skin around his eyes was dark.

“You will stay here,” he said, just a hint of question in his voice.

“If you let Ella go back home to Kirithra, unharmed.” They both stared at her, the man and Ella. Ella lips were moving, but she didn’t make any sound, shaking her head.

The prince gave one nod, turned around and walked back towards the doorway. Neia shuddered, feeling as if she had been holding her breath the entire time. The hazy feeling was back again, and she blinked, turning towards Ella, to hug her, to say goodbye. But she didn’t know what to say.

“Tell – tell mother and father and Zana I love them,” she said. Her voice did not sound like her own.

“No, I’m not going, if you’re staying I’m staying,” Ella said, her hands gripping Neia’s arm. But when the man with the helmet appeared next to them, the one who had taken Ella in the first place, he pried them loose from each other as if they were as weak as kittens. This man had no horns, but his face remained hidden under his helmet, except for the stubble on his chin and jaw and his mouth, which was tight set. He half carried, half pulled Ella away. She tried to fight him, but her movements got caught up in the heavy cloak she was wearing. And then, from one moment to the next, the man and her sister were gone. Again.

Neia stood very still in her spot. One step, even one small movement, allowing herself to actually realize where she was, where she would be for who knew how long, would make it all too real. She tried taking deep breaths, while the empty hall stared at her from all sides. A small eternity had passed when the man with the helmet returned. He carried a cloak over his arm, one very similar to the one Ella had been wearing.

“Are you cold?” he asked. She blinked. How could he be the one to sound uncomfortable?

“I – yes,” she said, too taken aback to even think about lying. He handed her the cloak, and when she put it around her shoulders, an instant wave of warmth spread through her, as if she was wearing sunlight. “Thank you. And… may I ask, who are you?”

It was strange to see him smile slightly, without seeing the rest of his face.

“My name is Thanas. And I assume you have met prince Aidon.”

“I have, though he did not care to introduce himself as such,” she said. Despite the helmet, she felt Thanas’ gaze on her. “My name is Neia.”

“What you did for your sister… Why?”

“She would do the same for me. But I am not the one who’s supposed to get married today.” Her thought went back to Kirithra. Would she miss the wedding now? Would there be a wedding? Would they try and search for her, save her?

“I will show you to your room now, you will need time to prepare. The prince has invited you to dinner tonight.” He turned, but then stopped, hesitating. Without looking at her, he muttered: “Just make sure you… don’t eat anything.”

~***~

Her rooms were… big, to start with something slightly positive. They were also dark and cold and, as all the other rooms and hallways and staircases they had passed, windowless. Thanas had left her alone without saying anything, and she had been too – well, not shy, but even looking at her seemed to make him uncomfortable. The whole situation had spiraled down from frightening to outright strange. She would have dinner tonight, with the beastly prince, but she shouldn’t eat anything? What was that supposed to mean? Thanas had told her to prepare, but how, and for what? For a moment, Neia wondered whether she would be dinner. The thought made her giggle, but the sound was so out of place in the dark room she quickly stopped. Despite the warm cloak, she felt how chilly the room was, and her feet were freezing. The only sensible thing she could do was to make a fire, at least. That big, dark shape against the wall had to be a fireplace. But no sooner a slight trail of smoke rose from the bed of kindling she had made, a voice sounded.

“Aah, finally!”

Neia quickly drew back. The voice had come from the fireplace.

“No, sweetie, don’t go now, I’ve been starving for years! Please…” The voice grew fainter as the tiny fire died down again. Neia blinked. Was she hallucinating, or was the fire talking to her? Well, only one way to found out, she supposed.

“Oh, yes, yes, thank you,” the fire sighed as she piled on more kindling and the flames grew large enough to reach the larger woodblocks in the fireplace. It’s voice was that of a woman, though raspy as if long unused, and strangely… smoky.

“Are you… in the fire?” Neia asked.

“Close, my dear. These beautiful flames are me, and I am them. The name’s Fyrka, and I thank you with all my light for bringing me back to life. It has been years! Though your presence must mean there is a new girl again, after all this time. My dear, what is your name?” Neia sat on her knees in front of the fireplace, marveling at the voice, which grew stronger as the fire grew brighter.

“Neia,” she answered automatically.

“That’s a lovely name. Now, why don’t you light some candles, my dear? This place can use some brightening up.” Neia lighted all the candles she could find, until slowly, bit by bit, the room emerged from the dark. There was a huge bed, a big wooden chest with an iron lock, tapestries on the walls, and doors leading to other rooms. But Neia did not feel like exploring. She sank onto the edge of the bed.

“What am I doing here?” she said softly. “I am the new girl? Have there been girls before?”

“Oh yes,” Fyrka said from the candle on the bedside table. “It’s a sad business, very sad indeed.” But before Neia could ask more, Thanas appeared in the doorway.

“He wants to see you now.” She did not have to ask who he meant.

She was escorted to a large dining room on the ground floor, which was mostly occupied by a table so large two dozen people could have dined with ease. The prince sat in the chair at the head.

“Sit. Please,” he said. She took a seat at the other end of the table. It was laden with food and wine, the smells mouthwatering, but she did not take one bite.

“Are you not hungry?” Aidon asked. Neia shook her head. She stared at her empty plate, feeling her cheeks grow warm under his sharp gaze. The yellow eyes and horns still unsettled her. Aidon cleared his throat.

“Neia. Will you marry me?”

 

* * *

 

 

Hi there, me again, and thank you for finishing chapter 3! Some great new characters are introduced, I hope it's not too hard to guess which characters in the fairy tale and/or myth they are based on. Btw, this is the first story I have written in English, and these first few chapters were written in pretty quick succession. The first idea for this came to me right after I watched the live-action Beauty and the Beast at the cinema. That's so long ago already! Though in my case, stories need to brew for a long time before they're ready to be written. I hope you all like what came out of my story-brewing pot, let me know in the comments!


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